


Love Like Lightning

by malevolentmango



Series: Love Like Lightning [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Established Relationship, Fluff, How Elaine Dies, Humor, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, murder boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 02:30:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10323569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malevolentmango/pseuds/malevolentmango
Summary: After Jesse is freed from the settlement that trapped him for 300 years, he travels with Hanzo, being more of a hindrance than a help on his dragon's hunts for mythical creatures. But a particularly difficult hunt leaves Jesse feeling a little more honest than usual.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vashoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vashoth/gifts).



> This takes place after the events of Vashoth's fic [Clipped Wings](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10032242/chapters/22359170). It's a brilliant fic, and it's the only reason this one exists, so you should go read it and shower Vashoth with love. I'm just happy that I get to play around in their universe, and I'm eternally grateful to them for allowing me to do so.
> 
> A huge thank you to my beta [Tsoleil](http://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorqui) for reading this while I was still finishing the ending just so I could show it to Vashoth that much faster. Both their comments and their fics give me life. <3

This, Jesse thinks, as he crouches low in a bush with a fantastic view of a moonlit clearing, is going to be _fun._

 

He’s never been to Turkey before - hadn’t been most places, in fact, before he got himself bound to that damnable New Mexico desert for more years than he likes to count - but it seems like it’s pretty nice this time of year. Though he hasn’t seen much of it aside from this clearing and the outside of the mayor’s house on the coast, of course. Hanzo had thought it best that Jesse not join him inside to pick up his payment for the hunt.

 

He supposes laughing loudly at the man’s picture in the middle of the café where one of his re-election posters hung might have made it seem like he lacked professionalism. But it had been worth it to see Hanzo hide his smile in his baklava.

 

The rustle of undergrowth nearby distracts him from thoughts of a smiling Hanzo, and Jesse adopts a smile of his own as he watches his dragon emerge from a thicket of trees. Hanzo flings himself across the length of the clearing, turning on his heel at the opposite edge to face the trees he’d jumped out of. He’s got an arrow nocked before his body completes the rotation, but he doesn’t draw. Instead, he waits, narrowed eyes focused on the area he’d appeared from.

 

Jesse is always a little bit in awe, seeing Hanzo like this. So perfectly in his element, poised to strike, the exacting way he readies his weapon.

 

It almost makes him feel bad for what’s about to happen.

 

The creature Hanzo’s been steadily leading away from the town bursts through the trees - a chimera, the three-headed monstrosity that’s been randomly setting fire to houses for weeks. When it catches sight of Hanzo, its goat head lets out a horrendous bleat while its lion head roars a breath of flames into the sky above the open clearing.

 

And then it promptly disappears.

 

Hanzo doesn’t move. But he does sigh heavily, roll his eyes, and say to the empty space in front of him, “Jesse. Put it back.”

 

Jesse pops his head up over the bush, grinning. “Aw c’mon, dragonling, don’t make me look at that thing again. It’s uglier than the mayor.” Another loud bleat echoes through the air, drowning out Hanzo’s quiet huff. “And anyway, it’s still there.”

 

Hanzo lifts his bow immediately and pulls the arrow back, and Jesse is far too busy watching the way his arm muscles flex with the tension of the draw to keep an eye on the chimera. But Hanzo fires confidently in the direction of four shuffling footsteps. There’s a roar from the lion head when the arrow connects, and Hanzo follows the sound with his eyes, his body shifting slightly to the right.

 

When Hanzo reaches back to grab another arrow from his quiver, he frowns and shoots an annoyed look in Jesse’s direction. What he pulls out instead of an arrow is a finely-peeled carrot, complete with an arrowhead and fletching. Hanzo’s nose wrinkles in disgust.

 

“You eat too many sweets, sweetheart, I’m jus’ lookin’ out for you!” Jesse calls out, leaning over his bush. He immediately drops back down behind it when Hanzo flings the carrot arrow at his head, quick as lightning, not bothering to use his bow.

 

The next arrow he reaches for is normal, but the chimera is still invisible.

 

“I should have left you tied to the bed after we were done last night,” Hanzo mutters, taking another shot.

 

Jesse lets out a low, appreciative whistle, both at the fact that the arrow hits right between the goat’s eyes and at the flash of a memory he pulls from Hanzo’s thoughts: his own naked body, splayed out across their bed, his wrists bound to the headboard as Hanzo runs a teasing hand down his chest. Jesse shivers.

 

“Now _that_ was a good night,” Jesse shouts over the creature’s agonized screaming. “Unlike this one.”

 

“That hurts, Jesse, truly.” The chimera is doing such a good job of revealing its location between all the noise and the occasional bursts of flame that Hanzo takes aim effortlessly, this time with an iron-tipped arrow. “Did you not once say that any time spent in my company was time well spent?”

 

The arrow lodges in the throat of the chimera’s lion head, where the molten fire of its insides melts the iron tip and spreads the metal through its body like poison. Jesse steps out of his bush to join Hanzo, and they watch as the creature dies, visible once more, thick, dark blood oozing into the grass around it in a haze of heat.

 

“Anyway,” Hanzo adds, shrugging his bow over his shoulder, “I did say you could stay home.”

 

Jesse nudges at the chimera’s corpse with his shoe. It’s sort of novel, really, to be this close to iron that doesn’t hurt him. Only Hanzo would go to the trouble of creating iron arrowtips entirely from scratch so he could be sure they wouldn’t hurt Jesse.

 

He looks up at Hanzo with a fond smile. “And where’s the fun in that, huh darlin’?”

 

And then he leans down and rips the lion head from the chimera’s body in one swift motion, shaking the excess blood and viscera from it the same way you’d shake rainwater off an umbrella. He hands it to Hanzo, who takes it with a raised eyebrow.

 

“A fine time for you to decide you want to be helpful,” he says, but there’s humor in his eyes.

 

Jesse just grins. “The sooner we turn that thing in, the sooner we can get outta here.” He leans in close, licks his lips at the salt-sweat smell of Hanzo’s skin, to whisper the rest in his ear. “And I believe it’s your turn in the ropes, dragonling.”

 

Hanzo’s eyes darken, and he shrugs past Jesse to make his way out of the clearing, the head dripping along the ground behind him.

 

“Then what are we waiting for?” he says over his shoulder, and Jesse catches just the barest hint of his smirk before he disappears through the trees.

 

Jesse takes off after him, not sorry in the least to skip out on the sightseeing in Turkey.

 

~~~

 

Tracking, Jesse discovers, is even more boring than killing the ugliest chimera in existence. Although, he’s had several months since Turkey to forget about that thing.

 

He lounges against a tree when Hanzo stops to examine some talon marks in the nearby treetops, heaving a long, put-upon sigh. It’s getting tiring, traipsing around the forest all the time - why do these creatures always seem to live in forests, he wants to know? - and he’s starting to believe there’s nothing but trees in the whole of the state of Washington, for all that he’s not seen a single building since Hanzo said they were headed to Seattle.

 

“Do not start,” Hanzo says, not even glancing in his direction.

 

“Didn’t say nothin’.”

 

“You did not have to. Your sighing could wake a dead man.”

 

Jesse chuckles. “Guess it's too bad we ain't huntin’ zombies then, huh?”

 

“ _We_ are not doing anything. I am hunting. _You_ are being a nuisance.”

 

“Aw shucks, dragonling, you always say the nicest things.” Jesse grins, slow and devious, and then adds, gesturing back the way they came, “Think you missed somethin’ over that’a way.”

 

When Hanzo turns to look, he finds a small, perfectly circular ring of mushrooms. They're long and narrow, stretching up at least five inches from the ground, and are shaped rather unmistakably like dicks.

 

Hanzo stares at them for a moment, and Jesse bites his lip as his right foot shuffles forward ever-so-slightly towards the mushroom ring. His eyes are glazed over, his mouth slightly open at the images that Jesse flashes into his mind: Jesse on his hands and knees as Hanzo thrusts into him roughly from behind, gripping his hips hard enough to leave marks, the way Jesse calls out his name on the rare occasion he has breath to speak at all.

 

Then Hanzo shakes his head vigorously, as if snapping himself out of a daze.

 

The glare he sends in Jesse’s direction is positively murderous.

 

Before he can open his mouth, Jesse says, “If those ain’t to your likin’, I got somethin’ a bit bigger I can offer you.”

 

“Incorrigible,” Hanzo says, turning to eye the mess of fresh branches on the ground with a critical eye. Jesse doesn’t miss the blush that crosses his dragon’s cheeks. “Shameless. _Reckless…”_

 

“Oh yeah, sugar, keep talkin’ dirty to me.”

 

“The harpies will not thank you for desecrating their land like this.”

 

“The harpies can kiss my--”

 

A sudden, strong gust of wind nearly knocks them both off their feet, followed by a furious shriek and the flapping of several sets of wings. Three harpies appear through a gap in the treetops, pure anger and disdain written across each of their faces. The one closest to the mushroom ring looks down at the circle in disgust and promptly attempts to stomp it to pieces.

 

Jesse just grins, watching the harpy grow more and more enraged as its talons have no effect on the mushrooms whatsoever, before finally allowing the illusion to fade.

 

“Howdy, ladies,” Jesse says, and he hears Hanzo let out a resigned sigh. “Sorry ‘bout that, it’s just that my partner here is _really_ into ‘shrooms.”

 

Hanzo slides his bow off his shoulder and readies it, seconds before the middle harpy flaps her wings angrily and moves towards him. He looses an arrow that hits directly between the harpy’s eyes, sending her body tumbling to the forest floor.

 

It hasn’t even settled completely before Hanzo’s bow lets out a piercingly loud wolf whistle.

 

Hanzo stares down at his weapon with a distinctly betrayed expression. Then he says, voice low and dangerous, “Jesse.”

 

“Nice shot, honey!”

 

“Do not make my bow talk--”

 

Hanzo doesn’t get to finish his sentence as one of the remaining harpies lunges in his direction with a screech of rage. The other one stalks menacingly towards Jesse, who promptly disappears from view.

 

“I didn’t make it talk, I made it whistle!”

 

“Do not do _either.”_

 

Hanzo jumps to the side, out of the harpy’s path, and raises his bow again. His first shot catches her in the shoulder, causing her to let out another otherworldly shriek; his second shot is a headshot that sends her to the ground, dark ichor flowing out into the dirt from both wounds.

 

“You’re pretty handy with this here bow, dragonling,” says Hanzo’s bow, followed by a low moan.

 

Hanzo’s eyes are dark and narrowed when they spot Jesse where he reappears, lounging against another tree deeper in the forest.

 

Jesse gives him a wink. “Bow seems to be actin’ up there. Maybe it should be _punished.”_

 

Hanzo dodges the final harpy’s grasp, slipping away between the trees where her wingspan will be a hindrance, putting him even further away from Jesse. Jesse frowns and starts back towards him, but before the worry can truly set in, he hears the telltale wail of a dying harpy. When Jesse catches up, he finds Hanzo standing over her dead body, an arrow sticking out of her right eye socket.

 

There’s a moment of silence, nothing but the swishing of the tree branches overhead, and then Hanzo’s bow says, “Bet those clever fingers would feel even better in Jesse’s ass.”

 

And Hanzo snaps.

 

He stalks through the towering firs and hemlocks towards Jesse, and for a few seconds Jesse is absolutely certain that Hanzo is finally done dealing with his particular brand of trickery. Hanzo crowds him up against a tree with a hand at his throat, and there’s a faint shock against his skin that matches the raw power that swirls in Hanzo’s deep brown eyes.

 

“Absolutely vulgar,” Hanzo says, a low rumble that has Jesse’s eyes widening. “But since you are so _eager_ for my attention, you will not mind if I take you right here where we stand.”

 

Hanzo lets his bow fall gently to the ground through the tips of his fingers so that he can run his other hand up under Jesse’s shirt. He tilts Jesse’s head to the side and lays into his throat, leaving red marks with unnaturally sharp teeth that have Jesse shivering.

 

And this isn’t exactly what Jesse had in mind, a romp in the middle of a forest like he’s some kind of satyr _,_ but he’s most certainly not going to complain when he’s got his dragon so intensely focused on him.

 

Hanzo wastes no time slipping Jesse’s serape over his head in between vicious, open-mouthed kisses, followed quickly by the old armor he still wears and his shirt. The scratch of the bark against his back is a shock, and even more so when Hanzo flips him around to pin his chest against it, caging him in against the tree with his arms and pressing hot, wet kisses down the length of his spine.

 

“Why is that you suddenly have so little to say, Jesse?” Hanzo asks as he makes quick work of the gaudy belt buckle Jesse had taken to wearing specifically because it was gold. He chuckles against the back of Jesse’s neck, and the sound travels straight to his cock. “Dragon got your tongue?”

 

“Now that was awful, darlin’, even for you,” Jesse says, and is proud that his voice is not as shaky as he feels.

 

“Perhaps I am just _distracted._ That seems to be happening quite a lot lately.”

 

“That’s--” Jesse lets out a gasp as Hanzo slides his hand into his pants, running teasing fingers down the already-hard length of him before shoving his pants down around his thighs completely. “--unfortunate.”

 

Jesse hears a rustling of cloth behind him, and turns his head to see Hanzo shrug his bag off his shoulder and reach into a side pocket, pulling out their travel-sized bottle of lube. He tosses the bag to the side with his bow and catches Jesse’s eye. He waggles the bottle in Jesse’s direction with a sly grin.

 

“I suppose I must give you credit for a few of your eccentricities, though.”

 

Jesse laughs, resting his head on his crossed arms against the tree as Hanzo runs an admiring hand down his back. “You tried to tell me we’d be back home before we’d need it.”

 

Hanzo leans in to press a soft kiss between his shoulder blades. “In this one specific case, you were right.”

 

“First time for everythin’.”

 

Despite their location, Hanzo takes his time preparing Jesse, long minutes of slow stretches, his fingers curling up in the slightest pressure against the spot inside him that has him seeing stars. And he doesn’t need it, _he doesn’t, just fuck me already,_ but Hanzo is in the kind of mood that doesn’t involve listening to reason. It’s either take what Hanzo gives him or ask for it stop, and he certainly isn’t going with option two.

 

It’s just unfortunate that Hanzo is also aware of this.

 

Jesse lets out a moan and presses back against Hanzo’s fingers, silently asking for more, but Hanzo just chuckles. Kneads at the meat of his ass with his other hand, spreads him open further. The chill wind through the trees makes him shiver, not from the cold but from the way it curls across all the barest parts of him. Jesse isn’t used to feeling _exposed._

 

He finds himself feeling a lot of things he’s not used to, now that Hanzo’s around.

 

“You will have to try harder than that,” Hanzo says, sliding his fingers idly out of his hole and then back in, far too slowly.

 

“What--what do you want, c’mon.” Jesse hates that he sounds desperate even to his own ears.

 

“Hmm?” Hanzo presses up against him, a long line of electric heat at his back, his devious fingers making Jesse groan into his crossed arms. “I want you to _beg for it,_ Jesse.”

 

And all Jesse can do is laugh, really, at his own words coming back to lovingly fondle his ass.

 

“A’right, if that’s what you want,” Jesse says, leaning back against Hanzo’s chest so that he can whisper in his ear. There’s no trace of laughter left in his voice when he continues, “Go on, I wantcha to fuck me, right here in the middle of this damn forest.” Hanzo twists his fingers, makes Jesse gasp, but he keeps going. “You’re killin’ me, dragonling, please.”

 

Hanzo’s fingers are gone in an instant. He spreads Jesse’s legs further apart with a nudge of his knee and bends him closer to the tree with a hand between his shoulder blades. There’s a shuffle of cloth and the slick sound of Hanzo preparing himself, and then the head of his cock is pressing against Jesse’s hole.

 

Jesse bites his lip, so agonizingly close to what he wants, and then Hanzo is sliding into him with a groan, one long, slow stroke until Jesse has taken in every hard inch of him. Hanzo leans over him to nip at the back of his neck, and the scratch of his shirt against Jesse’s bare back is liable to drive him insane.

 

“You beg so well,” Hanzo says, his voice more growl than actual words. He rolls his hips, just once, and Jesse lets out a frustrated moan. “Do not stop now.”

 

 _“Fuck.”_ Jesse rocks back against him, searching for friction, and Hanzo grunts, biting into the skin of his shoulder.

 

“Tell me what you want, Jesse.”

 

“Just--” Jesse groans, always too impatient for his own good. “Just fuck me, I can take it rough, you know I can. C’mon, please sugar, _fuck me--ahh!”_

 

Hanzo grips Jesse’s hips and thrusts into him, and Jesse sighs in relief at the feeling of finally, _finally_ getting what he wants. Hanzo sets an intense, grueling pace, driving into him hard enough to leave Jesse panting.

 

“Is this what you like, Jesse?” Hanzo asks, voice rough, his nails digging into Jesse's skin. “Debasing yourself for my attention?”

 

The words itch at the back of his throat before bursting through his gritted teeth on the edges of a groan. “Yes, _yes._ Goddamn, darlin’...”

 

Hanzo laughs breathlessly and tugs Jesse back against his chest, thrusting up at a new angle. He mouths at Jesse’s skin and wraps his arms around Jesse’s chest, the bulk of his upper body like a blanket of heat. Hanzo trails his fingers down his chest and stomach, leaving little electric shocks in their wake, to wrap around his cock. Jesse keens into the touch, murmuring Hanzo's name into the quiet forest air.

 

On a normal day, he knows Hanzo would have taken even more time with him, driving him to madness until Jesse had no words left with which to sass him. But he brings them both to the edge too hard and too fast, and Jesse doesn't have it in him to hold back when he finally comes, loud moans echoing off the trees. Hanzo never stops thrusting into him, merciless to the last, and Jesse _craves_ it even as he whimpers from the stimulation.

 

Hanzo comes with his forehead pressed against Jesse’s back, with Jesse's name on his lips, and Jesse will never admit it if he can help it but this is his favorite part - his dragon filling him completely, wrapped up in his strong arms, as if this is the place he's always belonged.

 

They breathe together in silence for a few long moments. Hanzo nuzzles the back of his neck and eases out of him, his movements lazy and sated. His voice is soft when he says, “Insufferable.”

 

Jesse thinks back to how they got into this position, all the trouble he's caused, and forces a laugh.

 

“Hey, at least I'm good for somethin’, huh dragonling?”

 

He expects Hanzo to chuckle, or huff, or to tell him he's being ridiculous again. But maybe he hears something in Jesse’s voice that he hadn't intended to say, because he nudges Jesse around until they're facing each other. Hanzo captures his mouth in a fierce kiss, so hard his back presses sharply into the bark of the tree, leaving him gasping into Hanzo’s mouth. Jesse sinks into the kiss, so intensely sweet that he wishes they were home, just so it could last a little longer.

 

“You are good for _everything,_ Jesse,” Hanzo says, quiet against his lips, running a tired hand through Jesse's hair. “Despite your infuriating tendency to make hunting incredibly difficult. And for as much as I complain, you...bring a lightness to my life that I have never known.”

 

“Han…”

 

Jesse isn't prepared for Hanzo's smile. A rough fuck he can handle, but he's always been undone by his dragon’s smile, and especially so when it's accompanied by words like these. He finds himself in the extremely rare position of having nothing at all to say. So instead, he steals another kiss, gentler than the first, and only whines a little when Hanzo pulls away.

 

“Come on then,” Hanzo says, leaning down to pick up Jesse's clothes. He hands them over with another grin and a nod at Jesse's neck. “As much as I hate to cover _those_ up, we still have a few more harpies to track down.”

 

“S’pose I'll have to be on my best behavior then.”

 

Hanzo shakes his head. “Perhaps just your second best?”

 

Jesse smiles then, wide and slightly wicked. When Hanzo just laughs, he thinks maybe he could've pulled off the whole romp in the forest bit without the mushroom ring, but it wouldn't have been nearly as much fun.

 

~~~

 

“Still don’t see why we couldn’t make a stop at Disney World on the way,” Jesse says sulkily, tossing an orange back and forth between his hands.

 

“I can only imagine the kind of havoc you would cause in an amusement park,” Hanzo says, his voice distant as he leads them through the undergrowth. The air is thick with heat but their slog through the swampy ground is thicker, and Jesse is already regretting his choice of footwear.

 

When Hanzo had said their next hunt was in Florida, Jesse’d been expecting something a bit more, well... _fun_ than stomping through the Everglades in search of a hydra.

 

“Only slightly more havoc than usual, I’d wager.”

 

“Your version of ‘slightly more’ usually ends with an entire village on fire and several dismembered humans.”

 

“That was one time!”

 

“One time in the last year, perhaps.”

 

Jesse snorts and doesn’t argue, which is basically the same as conceding the point. He doesn’t need to see Hanzo’s smug grin to know that it’s there.

 

The deeper they go into the swamp, the darker it gets. They’d set out in the late afternoon, while the hot sun was still shining overhead and walking outside had felt more like jumping into a swimming pool. But the encroaching branches of the cypress trees make the sun seem like a distant memory.

 

“Still say we should hit up the roller coasters though,” Jesse says, stepping carefully around a questionable-looking pile of moss. “S’like flyin’. Least for those of us who ain’t slower than molasses on a cold day.”

 

Hanzo scoffs and looks over his shoulder at Jesse, who offers him the most innocent smile he can muster. Hanzo had tried to fly with him in his dragon form exactly one time, after which Jesse had made a crack about being able to circumnavigate the globe before Hanzo even reached cruising altitude, and Hanzo had refused to speak to him for almost two weeks. This time, Hanzo just laughs at his feigned innocence and continues further into the swamp.

 

The first sign of trouble comes in the form of waves against the shore of a massive lake in the center of the swamp, caused by seemingly nothing at all. Hanzo stops at the edge of it and peers into the trees, searching, as Jesse squelches across the damp ground to stand next to him.

 

“Think that’s our tentacle monster?”

 

Hanzo sighs and shrugs his bag off his shoulders, tucking it safely behind a nearby tree before readying his bow.

 

“It’s a hydra, Jesse, not a ‘tentacle monster.’”

 

“You sure? Second option sounds more fun.”

 

Hanzo smirks. “If your wish is to be suspended helplessly and ravaged, that can be arranged.”

 

Jesse leans in close over Hanzo’s shoulder to whisper in his ear. “Promise, dragonling?”

 

He gets a little thrill at the way Hanzo shivers against him, and Hanzo turns to him for a short, fervent kiss before attempting to nudge him back out of the way with a smirk, just as the ground begins to shake beneath them from large, approaching footsteps.

 

“Perhaps if you behave yourself.”

 

“C’mon, what if we just…” Jesse wiggles his fingers, and the footsteps stop. Everything stops, in fact: the trees don’t sway, the water doesn’t flow, the birds don’t chirp. The entire world comes to a standstill, everything but Jesse and his dragon. “Take a break?”

 

Hanzo rolls his eyes. “Turn the time back on, Jesse.”

 

“Not till you give me a better kiss than that.”

 

Jesse is expecting some resistance to this idea. What he gets instead is Hanzo tugging him down by the collar of his shirt to press their lips together. The kiss is slow and deep, the kind that reminds Jesse of how Hanzo had walked into his bar in that godforsaken settlement and told him he was part of a dragon’s hoard, now and forever. Fierce, powerful, and without doubt or regret.

 

Jesse’s had kisses like these for years now, and will happily take them forever.

 

When Hanzo pulls away with a lingering smile, the world is back to normal. He nocks an arrow just as the hydra sloshes through the trees into view, and Jesse makes a disgruntled noise as lake water splashes up over his feet. The hydra has five heads, each one staring down at the two of them in a distinctly menacing manner.

 

Jesse doesn’t even get the chance to introduce himself before Hanzo’s drawing and shooting his first arrow into the neck of the far left head. The arrows are tipped in the smallest amount of gold Hanzo was willing to spare to be effective, and enchanted with a bit of what Jesse referred to as his “special magic” and what Hanzo referred to as “the most helpful he’d ever been.”

 

The hydra thrashes around with a screech as the charmed gold reacts to its own poisonous blood. And then it freezes in place, like a grotesque, oozing statue.

 

“Don’t think it’s gonna give us directions to Disney World now you’ve gone and shot it,” Jesse says, retreating back out of harm’s way when Hanzo turns to glare at him murderously.

 

“I swear,” Hanzo says, tugging another arrow from his quiver with rather more force than necessary, “if you make me waste a single one of these gold arrows, you will be replenishing my horde tenfold.”

 

“Now do sexual favors count? Seein’ as I’m already part of the horde an’ all?”

 

Jesse doesn’t wait for an answer; he unleashes the hydra again, and one of the heads takes a swipe at Hanzo. He jumps out of the way, narrowly avoiding its gnashing fangs, and from there the battle becomes one of testing Hanzo’s patience.

 

He never does waste an arrow, but between Jesse and the hydra, the situation keeps him on his toes. Hanzo’s drenched in swamp water almost immediately, his hair falling out of his bun in wet strings. The hydra uses its injured heads to shield its uninjured ones from his arrows, but Hanzo is deadly accurate, even with Jesse attempting to throw him off with stopping and starting time.

 

Jesse never gets tired of watching Hanzo in action, not when there’s just so much about him to _appreciate._ The way his muscles flex as he draws his bow; the way he uses the terrain to his advantage, forcing the hydra back against the cypress trees where it has a much lesser range of motion; the way he’s not discouraged by anything Jesse can think to throw at him - or at the hydra itself, which lets out a roar when Jesse pelts his orange at it - but rather handles it with ease.

 

But it wears him down, certainly, the prolonged battle, and fighting against the water doesn’t seem to help.

 

“Need a break?” Jesse asks cheekily, with the barest hint of real concern, as the hydra freezes in place once more.

 

Hanzo turns to look at him angrily, his chest heaving with exertion.

 

“No, I do not need a _break,_ Jesse. I need to finish this.”

 

“Suit yourself, darlin’,” Jesse says, and brings the hydra back to the present with a totally unnecessary wave of his hand, just to see Hanzo roll his eyes.

 

There’s a splash as the first head, severely damaged from Hanzo’s first arrow, falls off the hydra’s body into the swamp like a wilted petal from a flower. Before Hanzo has even turned to face the hydra again, two new heads sprout in the old one’s place, free of the decay of Hanzo’s gold-tipped arrows. One knocks Hanzo backwards out of the water, and the other pins him to the ground with its jaws around his throat.

 

For a single, terrifying moment, Jesse is almost too stunned to panic. Then, like flicking a switch, he feels everything at once. Panic, horror, anger, pure rage. And he thinks only two things.

 

One: He’s going to make this hydra wish it had never been created.

 

Two: He refuses to go back to an existence that doesn’t include Hanzo.

 

Just as he steps forward to throw the creature away from Hanzo, it goes flying back into the swamp on its own, sparks of electricity flickering across its mottled skin, scratch marks oozing ichor from the head that had been at Hanzo’s throat.

 

Hanzo climbs to his feet. And instead of searching for the bow that was knocked away from him, he faces the hydra with bare hands that have sprouted claws. Jesse can’t see his eyes from this angle, but he imagines they might echo the deep blue of the iridescent blue scales that shimmer at his neck and along his arms, glinting in the moonlight. Just looking at him makes Jesse shiver, goosebumps rolling across his skin, the already thick Florida air weighing down on him even more in the presence of Hanzo’s raw power.

 

Jesse’s never seen his dragon quite like this, growling low in his throat as he stalks towards the water’s edge. From behind, Jesse catches a glimpse of the tattoo on his left arm. It’s alight with blue, a swirling, glowing mass that lifts out of his skin as if the ink never truly settled under the surface.

 

Hanzo launches himself at the hydra, and from there the fight is over incredibly quickly, electricity bouncing across the water and through the trees to drive the hydra into submission. He uses his claws to slice off a head and cauterizes the wound in the same instant - flashes of light and sound, like a localized lightning storm. And then silence, as the hydra’s body floats, defeated, out into the depths of the lake, its heads drifting after it like shorn seaweed.

 

Jesse watches, mouth gaping, as Hanzo hauls himself back to the shore, the scales fading, the claws receding. He looks exhausted and exhilarated all at once, drenched in swamp water and ichor, the hydra’s poisonous blood having little effect on a dragon. He breathes heavily, his eyes wild as they fade back to their usual brown.

 

There are twigs in his hair, Jesse realizes. He has no idea how they got there.

 

As soon as Hanzo’s feet are firmly back on land, Jesse says, “Marry me.”

 

Hanzo stares at him, incredulous, water dripping from his hair down onto his shoulders.

 

“What?”

 

“Well, uh…”

 

“Did you just _propose_ to me?”

 

Jesse feels perhaps slightly less shocked than Hanzo looks. “You know...I reckon I did.”

 

Hanzo walks towards him, stands toe-to-toe with him, and pins him in place with his eyes.

 

“Would you care to elaborate?”

 

And Jesse isn’t used to feeling intimidated, but goddamn, he’s not used to feeling _surprised_ either. He’s thriving on Hanzo’s entire existence right now, and the way he’s dropped into his life with all of his surprises and made it worth _living_ again.

 

He loses control of his damn mouth again. “You got my tags. Seems like a fair trade for you to gimme a ring.”

 

Hanzo snorts. "I am not an expert on proposals but I think this is probably an awful one."

 

“Fine, you want a real proposal, dragonling? Then I'll give you one.”

 

Jesse has absolutely zero idea what he’s doing, but he gets down on one knee anyway, hitting the muddy ground with a squelch as Hanzo watches him with wide eyes. And this is the craziest thing he can ever remember doing, kneeling before Hanzo like some kind of human in the middle of a swamp in the Everglades after his _literal_ dragon boyfriend decimated a hydra. But hell, his entire life has been crazy. At least this part of it comes with a happy ending.

 

Or, he hopes it does.

 

He thinks of how close he came to an existence without Hanzo, and that’s the thought that makes the words pour from his mouth.

 

“I know you think I’m bein’ impulsive. I s’pose I am. And I know we don’t need some fancy wedding, ‘cause you and me? Hell, we’re gonna outlive any damn piece of paper they could hand us. I know I already belong to you, completely - horde or no. And I’m thinkin’ you know the opposite is true too.”

 

Hanzo doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are soft, and the only feeling Jesse can pull from his head is a wave of love that rolls over him like lightning over water, no less strong than the power he’d used to kill the hydra.

 

“But when you were lyin’ there with that thing’s teeth ‘bout to bite your damn head off, you wanna know what I thought? ‘I ain’t goin’ back to a life without him.’ And you know me, dragonling: I’m selfish as all hell. I want you with me. For a year, for fifty, for my whole damn existence. And _this_ might be impulsive, but that part sure ain’t.”

 

The second he finishes talking, Hanzo hauls him to his feet and pulls him into a kiss, so sweet he feels like floating, and he finds himself totally unable to care about the fact that Hanzo smells like swamp water and hydra blood, that everywhere they touch Hanzo’s fingers leave trails of electricity across his skin and patches of dampness on his clothes.

 

Jesse’s always wanted a dragon of his very own, just like the ones in the stories he used to read as the pathetic human child he used to be. The real thing, he thinks, is infinitely better than anything conjured up by a book and his imagination combined.

 

Their lips part, and Hanzo presses their foreheads together.

 

“Dragons mate for life,” he says, as if he thinks that would be the thing to drive Jesse away, after all.

 

“An eternity of bein’ both a literal and figurative pain in your ass? Hell, dragonling, you can count me in for _at least_ five lifetimes in that case.”

 

Hanzo smiles, and Jesse feels it more than he sees it. “Alright. But you only get _one_ honeymoon in Disney World.”

 

Jesse laughs and wraps his arms around Hanzo even tighter. “Guess I’ll have to make it count, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> The amazing Omaano has done [THIS GLORIOUS ART](http://omaano.tumblr.com/post/158755982803/this-sparkling-dragon-in-the-middle-of-a-swamp) of Hanzo in all his dragon-like glory. If you need me I'll be staring at this for the rest of my life.
> 
> If you'd like to freak out about McHanzo with me, you can find me on tumblr [here](http://malevolentmango.tumblr.com).


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